


My Mind and Yours

by thesadchicken



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Mind Meld, Mind Melding, Vulcan Mind Melds, and just a little bit of smut, but really just a tiny little bit, nothing graphic either
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 09:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8707348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesadchicken/pseuds/thesadchicken
Summary: Jim and Spock practice mind-melding in Iowa.Originally written for a prompt by plaidshirtjimkirk ("While visiting Iowa, Jim takes Spock to a nearby field. They lie down in the grass and look up at the sky together") but... things got out of hand. Way out of hand.So I ended up writing this for the Old Married Spirk Challenge 2016.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I made an '8tracks' fanmix to go with this story. If you want to listen, [ click here. ](http://8tracks.com/sadchicken/my-mind-and-yours)

The corn field is a sea of gold reaching out to the horizon. A stream of green grass enfolds its edges, glittering in the light, winking at the sky. The sun is drowsy; hanging low; almost gone. For a brief instant, the whole world is sleepy. Nothing moves and the moment is caught in its imperturbable slumber. Spock’s arm brushes Jim’s. A breeze shakes the field, making the grass dance to its idle song. And suddenly the sky is on fire.

A burst of red light sears the heavens as the sun dives under the horizon. Jim slips his hand into Spock’s. A bird flies through the field, slicing the air with a strident scream, and movement is thrown into the scene all at once.

Jim and Spock, silhouettes in the dying day, start running down into the meadow. The grass is knee-length, and it slaps their shins as they move through it, unrelenting. Jim smiles up at the sky and pulls on Spock’s hand. _Run, run faster_ , his voice echoes through their mental bond. Spock complies, dashing ahead in a blur of dark hair and flowing robes.  Jim is now behind him, holding onto his hand as if their lives depended on it. He’s giddy with glee, running so fast he can’t see his legs. A cloud catches fire above them; the flames sizzle in the distance. Jim and Spock’s feet are no longer touching the ground. They’re running on thin air, running into the blazing sky, sparks crackling past them as they make their way upwards…

Jim opens his eyes. He is standing in the middle of the field, facing Spock. Their bodies are pressed together, their breaths mingling. Spock’s fingers are placed over Jim’s psi point, gently caressing his cheek and temple. The sky has now calmed down, the fire has abated. The horizon holds a hint of fiery heat, but the rest is turning deep blue. Everything is still once again.

“We’re getting better at this,” Jim says, breaking the spell of silence.

Spock nods approvingly. “We are making rapid progress,” he agrees.

Jim slides his hand up his bondmate’s arm and wraps his fingers around Spock’s wrist. He pulls it slowly down to his lips and places a soft kiss over the Vulcan’s knuckles.

“Are you tired?” Spock whispers, leaning in and discreetly nestling his nose in Jim’s hair.

“Yeah,” Jim says, “a little.”

Spock kneels onto the grass, pulling Jim down with him. The sky is shifting from one state to another; uncertain; unclear; mysterious and wonderful. Jim can’t take his eyes off Spock’s. Under pointed Vulcan eyebrows and drooping eyelids, Spock’s pupils are dilated. A tentative tongue darts out and licks thin green lips – Jim lets out a breathy sigh and runs his hand through Spock’s hair. The night is falling soundlessly over Iowa.

“Oh God – I want you,” Jim breathes, leaning in, pulling Spock closer and pushing both their bodies onto the ground.

Their lips meet, timid at first, prodding at their budding desire, then the kiss deepens, and Jim climbs on top of Spock, straddling his hips. The grass is tall enough to conceal their bodies from the rest of the world, but they can still feel the sky winking down at them. Spock pulls away.

“You said you were tired –” he starts, teasingly raising an eyebrow at his lover.

“Shut up,” Jim laughs, and he plunges back in, capturing Spock’s lips between his.

The sun has long since died under the horizon. Spock’s hands run up and down Jim’s back, then he reaches for Jim’s thighs, cups Jim’s backside, wraps his legs around Jim’s waist, and everything is lost in their passion. The sun, the grass, the insects buzzing across the field: everything fades into nothingness, leaving them alone, free, drifting into a feverish haze.

Their bodies find each other without searching. They kiss long and slow. Jim pulls back breathlessly and leaves a trail of wet pecks along Spock’s neck. Spock pushes him back and pins him down to the grass, swiftly swapping their positions by climbing on top. He holds his palm up, fingers brushing against Jim’s psi points, and he asks, “May I?”

Jim nods, a loving smile plastered on his face. Spock places one small kiss on Jim’s lips and leans in so their foreheads touch. “My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts…”

Jim isn’t certain whether his eyes close at this very moment or not, but as Spock speaks the words the entire world around them is plunged into darkness. Jim feels the air around him shifting, unbearably hot, and fire slithering beneath his skin, flames licking his insides. He’s aware of every part of his anatomy; he can feel the tingle of life course through his veins, and he feels alive and he _wants_ and he _needs_ so much. He is all body, shaking with anticipation and desire and sweet agony.

His mental walls come crumbling down. He reaches out for Spock. He _wants_. He _needs_.

And then Spock is there. He’s the only source of light in the darkness, and his lust echoes Jim’s. The heat spreads throughout the empty space between them and sparks ignite, and then Human and Vulcan collide, mind to mind, thoughts to thoughts, mouth to mouth.

It feels very much like a kiss at first – hesitant, tender, exploratory. They are still separate bodies, unconnected, not yet linked, and it aches. They both want more, they want to be joined; they want to be one. They _want_. They _need_.

Jim gives. He must always be the giver; he can’t bear it any other way. And so he gives all that he is, and Spock takes, with sweet surrender, everything Jim has to offer. He takes it quietly at first, relishing every moment of it, letting Jim penetrate him with care. And then the volcano erupts once more and Spock’s body is wide open, receiving, taking with growing hunger. Jim listens to his bondmate’s sighs, runs his fingers over his skin, treasures it, loves it with all his might. He knows what Spock likes and he gives, he keeps giving, more and more and more until his own desires melt into Spock’s and they are no longer separate, they are _one_.

Sweet moans of pleasure fill the air as they roll, heave and undulate under a rain of fire spittle. Their limbs are intertwined, and there’s vehemence in their tender embrace. There’s a passion that pulls them up and throws them down as they stagger back and forth. They yield to the wave of craving that carries them away... far away…

That is when they push past the boundaries of flesh. They leave their realm of red heat and enter a world of scintillating blue. Spock’s consciousness floats next to Jim’s in a cloud of stardust. They both hover over a sea of glittery silver planets, filling the cosmos with the sound of their love. Waves of gaseous purple mist curl and swirl in whirlpools around them. They fly through nebulae and across galaxies. Supernovae explode just above them, sending tremors along the delicate string of stars lining the skies.

Jim and Spock are together, everywhere and nowhere; separate but not separated; hand in hand in a universe they made their own.  As the universe expends, so does their bond – reaching further into each and every unexplored corner of space.

The moment seems to last forever. They know they’ve found infinity in one another. They are eternal.

They open their eyes. They’re lying next to each other on the grass, under Iowa’s starry sky.

“Spock,” Jim pants. The name sounds like a prayer, like a miracle, like a dream come true.

 “T’hy’la,” Spock whispers back. The endearment rings with gratitude, devotion and trust.

In one swift motion, Jim wraps his arms around Spock and holds him close. Spock hugs him back, burying his nose in the crook of Jim’s neck. Human pressed against Vulcan, Vulcan pressed against Human, they start dozing off.

~

“Don’t wake up yet, Spock.”

Jim’s voice is ethereal. Somewhere in the distance, birds are chirping. Spock keeps his eyes closed and listens to his husband hum, “You look so beautiful.”

Their bond is as strong as ever – perhaps even stronger now that it is no longer bound by ties of flesh and blood.

 “Please don’t wake up yet. Stay here with me…”

“I will stay with you always, T’hy’la.”

“Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> The ending is purposefully unclear. Tell me what you think of it.


End file.
